Claimer: I own Christiana, her two kids, and her second husband. Besides that, everything goes to Hellsing's creator. Oh how I worship him for bringing Hellsing into this world.

Integra slid open a drawer, checked to make sure her revolver was off safety, and hid it within arm's reach. She wasn't sure what to expect to come through that door, but she wouldn't let history repeat itself about relatives she didn't actually have…

Soft footsteps came down the hall and then a timid knock at the door.

"Come in," Integra instructed.

Integra stared as Christiana walked into the office. Not because of how much she looked like her, even for being her mother. Not because of the familiarity she seemed to have with the room, or the tender expression in her eyes as she looked at her daughter after two decades. No, Integra stared because she was utterly baffled by the woman walking in and not even flinching as Alucard glared at her from behind the door, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. Even if she didn't look behind the door, most people would have at least sensed his presence. Was her mother oblivious?

Christiana took off her hat. Integra stood.

"My little Teggie…" She murmured, smiling reminiscently as her eyes looked over her form, "You've grown so much."

"Yes, that does seem to happen to little girls when they become women," Integra murmured, glancing over her mother. Christiana turned her head away, her gloved hands fidgeting with her purse.

"…how's your father?"

"Dead," her head whipped back around, staring at Integra.

"I'm so sorry. How about your Uncle Richard?"

"He's dead too." Integra got a sick jolt of pleasure as Christiana went pale, looking nauseous, "Don't worry; both of their passings were quite painful and premature."

"Integra," she growled. Integra smirked, daring her to reprimand her as though she was really, truly her mother.

Christiana sighed; her heels echoing as she slowly approached the desk. She reached a hand out, brushing the edge of the desk with a mix of recollection and disgust.

"…I suppose that makes you the head of the Hellsing Organization now, doesn't it?"

"I suppose so," she replied venomously, "At least, that's what I thought I inherited when I was twelve years old."

Christiana stared into her eyes, her own wide and her mouth slightly agape.

"How…?"

"The story isn't for strangers. Now, is there something you came here for?" Christiana continued to stare at Integra, in shock and amazement.

"What happened to the little girl I used to tuck into bed…?"

"You left her. At the train station. Twenty years ago," Alucard spoke up, floating upright and walking towards the pair.

The change in the former Lady Hellsing's demeanor was instantaneous. She whirled around, tensed up like a rabbit catching wind of a fox. Her hands trembled and her breathing became unsteady, her eyes wide as saucers in the wake of the nosferatu. There was no doubt in Integra's mind that Christiana knew exactly what Alucard was, maybe even to the extent that she herself did.

"…Card," she choked out.

"Christiana," he said crisply.

He took his sunglasses off, watching his own long fingers play with them.

"I will say my piece, and then take my leave," he promised Integra, looking back up at Christiana, "It has always been that coming between a mother and her child equals death. A true mother will do anything to nurture and protect their offspring, past the point of fathers or even spouses. I've seen women fight packs of wolves with their bare hands, and win, to save their babes. Such is the purity of that bond's love."

His sunglasses stopped mid-rotation.

"There is no excuse for what you did. You could've jumped off that train; you could've forced the conductor to stop. Hell, you could've even come back for her the next day; it's not like you didn't know where she was! But no, you chose to look after yourself and your own interests; to hell with your husband or daughter. You were suddenly aware of the flames of demons all around you, and you couldn't stand the heat. And so we all suffered for your cowardice."

Alucard paused for a minute, looking curiously at her. He gave a curt laugh.

"No, I'm not accusing you of not loving your daughter," he assured her thoughts, slipping his glasses on. A black hole formed and Alucard stepped inside, "I'm accusing you of loving yourself more."

The tear and Alucard soon vanished, leaving a shaking Christiana and a stunned Integra in its wake. After a moment, she sighed, picking up the phone.

"I'll have Walter put on some tea…"

III

"What's he doing out of the basement?" Her voice quivered as she spoke. Integra shrugged, leaning back in her seat.

"Lurking around, being mysterious… I don't pay much attention to what he does in his free time as long as I don't hear screaming."

"You know what I mean."

It was a little late for tea, but adding alcohol to the equation was just asking for trouble. They sat across from each other in the parlor, each sipping from their cup in turn. Walter stood nearby, present but detached. He hadn't said a word or looked at Christiana in Integra's presence. A foreboding nagged at her; Walter and Alucard's negative reactions set her on edge and made it impossible to be unbiased.

Christiana crossed her legs, her free hand clutching the arm of the chair. She sat up rigidly, glancing every so often at the door. Integra leaned back in her seat, one leg resting over the other.

"If we have such a weapon, why not use it? He was doing no one any good rotting away in the basement."

"He was doing plenty of good not running around and unsettling everyone," she insisted, the shake still in her voice. Integra met her eyes.

"…how do you even know about Alucard? He was chained in the basement long before you and father were married," Christiana looked in danger of throwing up.

"He didn't stay in the basement," she grumbled.

Integra's eyebrows raised and she glanced at Walter. Walter avoided her.

"What do you mean?" Christiana took a deep breath before speaking.

"I heard you giggling one night… You were supposed to be asleep… I came in to tell you to settle down," she closed her eyes, looking as though she was reliving the memory right in front of Integra, "I thought it was a man at first, Walter maybe, but he was so tall and jagged, long gray hair…"

Christiana's knuckles turned white as her fingers dug into the arm of the chair. The tea was in danger of splashing out of the trembling cup.

"He had a grip on your arm and you were struggling against him, kicking, punching… I screamed. Then he turned to look at me…his eyes glowing and red."

Integra stared, incredulous. Alucard…in her bedroom… When she was little? Doing what? Shouldn't she remember something like this? Shouldn't it have come up at some point? How…?

"It was just a game; she was laughing for Christ's sake," Walter spoke up, his voice cool, "As all three of us tried to explain numerous times, he could not have hurt her, even if he wanted to."

"That's no excuse for him being around her in the first place," Christiana grumbled.

"And that's no excuse for leaving your family," Integra responded icily.

She finished off her tea, setting it aside.

"I asked about you a few times, you know," she said offhandedly, "Father and Walter insisted you died. As you're probably aware of there aren't too many women around, and none I could really confide in. So I taught myself what I could, with books and movies and such. What I couldn't answer, I kept to myself, because I remembered how hard it was for Father to try and help… How the strongest man I had ever known crumbled at the question of where babies came from," she shook her head in disgust, "Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to go bra shopping with your butler?"

Integra realized her voice had been steadily getting louder, her teeth clenched as if to bear them at the woman who so casually waltzed into her life. Christiana stuttered in an attempt to answer, refute, whatever she was going to do, but failed. Integra rose to her feet, her fists trembling at how tightly shut they were.

"Where were you when I needed someone to tell me it was alright when the Round Table questioned everything that came out of a little girl's mouth? Where were you when I needed advice about the butterflies in my stomach, to sympathize with my feminine issues, to not judge me when my strategies had my soldiers buried six feet under or worse? Where were you when I needed a shoulder to cry on when they were laying my father in the ground? Where the hell were you when I was running for my life from my uncle down to a basement where my only hope was a shriveled-up corpse?" She was shouting now, almost loud enough for the entire mansion to hear her.

Something hot and wet burned underneath her eyes. She spun around on her heels and stormed away, furious at Christiana, at her father…at herself. She wiped quickly at her eyes before she left the pair of them behind.

III

It wasn't often Integra indulged in an early night, but she couldn't force herself back into the office. She didn't want to talk to anyone more tonight; not Walter, not Seras, and especially not that woman who had the gall to call herself her mother.

So she dawned her sleepwear, curled up underneath her covers, and allowed herself a luxury she hadn't afforded in years; she let herself cry.

Once she had wept until she was satisfied, her stomach hit the floor. Someone had been watching her juvenile display. She jerked into a sitting position, her right hand slipping underneath her pillow. Even with her glasses off, she recognized the figure in the chair in the corner. A black mop of hair and slightly glowing red eyes, she squinted to try and read his expression.

"How long have you been there?" She hissed.

"Awhile."

She looked him over. His legs were crossed, but his body was leaning slightly forward, as if he had been listening to her. Listening to what, though? Her blubbering like an idiot? She wiped at her eyes and straightened.

"It's ridiculous, I know, suddenly caring about an absence I hardly noticed," he shook his head.

"Not really. Wounds reopen if they aren't properly treated the first time," he stood up, walking slowly towards her bed, head bowed.

Integra drew her legs underneath her, gesturing permission for him to sit at the end.

"Why did you lie about the basement?"

"I didn't lie about my imprisonment; what I said was I hadn't had blood in twenty years. You jumped to conclusions," he laid out at the foot of the bed, lounging on his side, "It was heavily suggested I stay in the basement or there would be hell to pay; I wasn't ordered."

"Minced words," she remarked. He shrugged.

"Yes," he admitted, "But like most pets, I was curious about the new arrival."

Integra picked at her blanket, averting her eyes from him.

"So…we played."

"All the time," he murmured, "I was the imaginary friend they didn't realize was real. We were a pretty good team, defying Walter, getting into trouble… Of course, things changed a bit when you figured out you could boss me around. What Christiana didn't include in her dramatic narrative was the fact you were beating me up before she came in. It was pathetic what I did for you."

She glanced at him. There was something guarded about him, yet oddly sentimental. The mention of her power over him brought her back to reality. Alucard was her servant; she was his master. That was the bottom line. She folded her hands on her lap.

"I need you to be on your best behavior, regardless of your feelings." He snorted his disgust.

"She doesn't deserve it."

"It's an order."

She sighed, pointing off the side of the bed. Alucard grumbled, but slid off the bed, kneeling by her side. She slid back down, staring up at the ceiling.

"…you will be compensated," she murmured.

"Compensated?" He repeated softly.

"Yes…compensated."

Integra did not use this card very often. Alucard was a slave and was expected to do as asked. Sometimes she used it as a reward for a job well done, but it was rare she put herself in such a position. She closed her eyes as she sent a very clear mental image to Alucard; of her sleeve rolled up, of her picking up a knife, of the knife resting above the blue vein so visible in her inner arm and finally cutting into herself, letting the blood run down her-

Alucard made a sound somewhere between a growl and a sigh. He understood the agreement.

"And an…advance?" He asked hopefully, practically begging.

"Not after the way you behaved tonight."

He reluctantly stood, bowing.

"Then sleep well, my master," he murmured before melting away into the shadows.

III

Breakfast the next day was… Strained. Integra made a mental note to thank Walter for seeing to Christiana's arrangements while she had been…neglectful. Christiana gave her a nervous glance before turning back to her oatmeal.

"How did you sleep?" Integra inquired.

"Rather well, thank you," she answered.

Integra sipped at her tea, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry for my behavior last night. It was childish."

"I honestly expected worse," she admitted.

Christiana took a bite. Integra nibbled at her toast.

Christiana cleared her throat.

"There's…one other thing I wanted to talk to you about," she said. Integra glanced over at her.

"Go on."

She met Integra's eyes, her lips trembling before she spoke.

"Your brother and sister are staying in a hotel right now in town…well, half brother and half sister. They'd very much like to meet you, and I'm really hoping you would."

TBC

I might be wrong, but the only things I remember about Alucard's imprisonment (in the manga, show, or OVA) are that he hasn't tasted blood in twenty years and Richard saying that the lower floor had been closed off for twenty years. Thus, loophole born of Alucard occasionally sneaking around. Maybe.

Bah, just review please.